


Dumb Thought Of The Day

by WoodleNoodle



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Drabble, Dumb thoughts, Highschool AU, M/M, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, You shouldnt hang peoples faces in museums, alex and john having very dumb thoughts, author can't fucking tag, gotta stretch them brain muscles, i guess?, insert image of a brain flexing, mostly just me exercising my writing ability, oh yeah theyre in highschool, shut up its 2:30 am, thats the whole plot, uhhh i wrote this at 1 am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 21:22:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17050787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoodleNoodle/pseuds/WoodleNoodle
Summary: Soulmate AU: the first thought you have when first meeting your soulmate is tattooed on their wrist. This is the story of how Alexander Hamilton met his soulmate.Just a little drabble that I decided to post on here because my friend Eliza wanted to read it.





	Dumb Thought Of The Day

**Author's Note:**

> this ones dedicated to my best fucking friend in the whole world love you lizard bitch!!

_Oh, damn look at that hunkalicious piece of ham._

 

Don’t ask Alex what that’s supposed to mean. He doesn’t know. He's not even sure if his soulmate knows. At the very least, his soulmate doesn’t seem to know that hunkalicious is not a real word. Or that you should be careful with your first thought upon seeing someone, lest they be your soulmate.

 

Alexander sighed, throwing away the paper towel he'd just dried his hands with and glancing down at the words on his wrist one last time before pulling down the sleeves of his coat. He looked back up at himself in the mirror. He'd hardly slept in the past week, too busy writing essays he’d left to the last minute into odd hours of the night, running on not much more than caffeine, and his face showed it. He rolled his his eyes. A hunkalicious piece of ham he certainly was not.

 

He was more like an anxious high schooler struggling with his sexuality. Okay, he _was_ an anxious high schooler struggling with his sexuality. And he was especially anxious right now. He had decided to join Mr. Washington's debate club today, since he desperately needed something to do after school. He had no idea if he was actually any good at debate, but he was good at arguing, so fuck it.

 

He left the boys’ bathroom, picking his backpack up from where he’d left it just outside and slinging it over one shoulder before shoving his hands in his pockets and walking through the now mostly empty hallways toward Mr. Washington's classroom. Pushing the door open, he just barely caught the end of the teacher’s sentence.

 

“-ilton.” Washington turned his head to Alexander, smiling. So he was a bit of a teacher’s pet, and maybe he joined debate because Washington totally picked favorites. “Here he is now. Welcome to debate club, Alexander. Go sit next to John.”

 

Alexander nodded silently, looking around the room. He recognized most of the students here, so he assumed that John was the one he didn’t already know. Curly brown hair that wasn’t held back in his ponytail framed his freckled face beautifully, as if he were a flawless portrait hanging in a museum where it belonged. As the boy noticed Alexander's gaze, his masterpiece of a visage turned a light red. It was just too damn adorable, and Alexander had only one thought:

 

_I'm gonna hang that face in the Louvre._

 

He smiled, feeling the heat rise to his own cheeks as he sat next to John. The boy extended his hand to Alexander, who shook it. Alex was about to pull his hand away when he noticed the words on John's wrist, eyes widening. Of course he didn’t get a normal thought on his soulmate like James Madison's _“How the hell was this guy out sick for a third of the year?”_  No, he just had to have the one time he thought something creepy.

 

John must have noticed his pause, because he pulled away, looking up at Alexander with concern lacing his Southern accented voice as he spoke. “You alright, Alex?”

 

“In my defense, at least those are real words.”

 

John stared up at him, perplexed. “What the Sam Hill are you talkin’ about?”

 

Alexander sighed, simply rolling up his right sleeve. John read the words on his wrist, his face quickly turning a bright tomato red. “Well, fuck me gently with the Constitution.”


End file.
